Confessions of a Bad Dad: My Kids are Junkies

popface2-1If there’s one thing that always makes me feel like a failure as a parent, it’s when someone asks me what my kids’ first words were.

Seriously, I’m supposed to know that?

It’s not that I don’t care. It’s not that I wasn’t listening for their first words every day of their babyhood. It’s just that those first two years were full of so many loony squeaks and noises, some totally random and some parroting grown-up speech. Mixed in there occasionally were various sounds which I gradually came to understand were communicating something specific. But even those weren’t always words. It’s not like one day something crystal clear arose from my kids’ babble, like this:

Goo gaa foo daa daduh baba iPhone fee fum poopoo Ke$ha

The closest thing I can identify to a first word is “pop”, and really that’s just because it was their most commonly used word as far back as I can remember. More than “Daddy”, more than “Why? Why? Why?”, even slightly more than “Ke$ha”. Have I mentioned my kids love Ke$ha?

So what’s a pop?

A pop is my arch nemesis. My Moriarty. The Tom to my Jerry. It’s a vile plastic narcotic that’s been my childrens’ master since they first wrapped their tiny, toothless gums around one. You know, one of these:

Pop, Pacifier, Nuk, Binky (Shudder.)

Sure, at first pops were cute. I mean, look at this. This is cute:


You know what’s not as cute? This:popface

OK, it’s a little cute, so maybe you can understand my dilemma.

It all started so sweetly. One day, baby Sutton pointed at a pacifier that was just out of reach and pluckily chirped, “Pop!” Drew and I let out our biggest-ever “Awwwww…” and knew immediately that “pop” was our new term for pacifier, forever.

I never expected “forever” would last three and a half years.

I used to cringe when I would see anyone over the age of zero walking around with a pacifier in his or her mouth. Pacifiers are for babies, Childless Me insisted. Why didn’t that kid’s parents take it away? Were they A) not ready to accept that their kids were growing up, or B) completely incapable of standing up to the little tyrants?

The answer, I now know, is B.

Totally B.

Back when my kids were zero years old, we would scatter a dozen pacifiers around their cribs at night, because if they woke up and couldn’t find one, there would be hell to pay. I developed a unique superpower, the ability to locate a pacifier in the dark at 2 a.m. amid a tangle of bedsheets and Muppet dolls with only the light of my iPhone to guide me.

The only reason we stopped giving them so many pops is that they developed favorites, and they could tell the difference even in complete darkness. My kids had become pop connoisseurs.

So they got to be one year old, and they still used their pops. Big deal. Pops calmed them down, and keeping them calm was my #1 daily challenge. What was the harm?

Pacifiers Are Not Forever, PopagandaThen, they got to be two years old…

Two and a half…

People started telling me to poke holes in the pops so they wouldn’t be as fulfilling to suck on. My mom told me how she finally got me to give up my pacifier when I was too old for it. She simply held it up in one hand, picked up a pair of scissors in the other, then la la la repressed memory la la la childhood trauma la la la.

I couldn’t do that to my kids. They were in love. How would I handle this if they were dating someone I didn’t like? I would never just forbid them from seeing each other. Likewise, a scissor attack seemed a bit drastic.

I would have to orchestrate this breakup gently.

Drew and I quietly began to roll back the availability of the pops. First, we restricted pops to inside the home or the car. No more sucking in restaurants or at playgrounds. That way, at least no one else had to know about our secret shame. A few months after that, we ruled that pops could only be used in the car or at bedtime, the places where we most wanted the kids to be quiet.

We started reading them books about how awesome it is to give up pacifiers. Pop-aganda. No less an authority than Elmo told them it was time.

Elmo, Bye-Bye Pacifier, Bye Bye Binky“Are you guys ready to give up your pops?” we’d ask.




Pops quietly took over our lives. I learned to drive on the freeway with one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently arched over the center console, fishing around in the back seat for one kid or the other’s dropped pop. It was safer than the alternative — listening to them scream for the whole ride because they’d lost it.

Ellen Burstyn, Requiem For a DreamFinally, I faced the harsh truth about these ringed plastic menaces. Pops weren’t keeping my kids calm. It was more like the absence of pops was driving my kids crazy. This was an addiction. While I’d quietly enabled them, my toddlers had degenerated into Ellen Burstyn in Requiem For a Dream.

I put my foot down.

No pops. Anymore. Ever.

In the car.

I mean, I still let them use pops at bedtime. I’m not crazy. Do you have any idea what kind of fight that would’ve been?

At first, the new rule went over smoothly. They didn’t even protest. It took a day or two before they started playing dumb. “Where’s my pop?” they’d ask as I pulled out of the driveway.

“We don’t use pops in the car anymore. Remember?”

“But where’s my pop?”

“We don’t use –”

“I want my POPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!”

nomorepacifiersWithdrawal was agony for all of us, but we made it. Within a week, they stopped asking for pops in the car.

Bedtime became the new battleground. Every night, I awoke at least once to one kid or the other screaming over the baby monitor, “Daddy! I can’t find my pop!!!”

Slowly, I planted the seeds for the final phase.

“You know who could really use these pops? Your cousin, Grace.”

“Yeah, she’s a baby! Babies love pops!”

“So, the next time we see her, we’re going to leave the pops with her. And then, as a reward, we’ll go to Toys R Us, and you guys can pick out any toy you want!”


Yes, I bribed them — not because bribing is good parenting, but because bribing works, and sometimes that’s more important.

For months, it went on like this. We talked about giving up the pops, and they loved the idea, because when we discussed it, it always occurred in the future. I could almost hear them assuring me, “I can quit anytime I want to, Daddy.”

Then, finally, this past weekend, we made the trip to my in-laws’ house, where the kids would see their baby cousin.

“Are you guys going to give Grace your pops when we see her?”

“Yes! And then we’ll go to Toys R Us!”

I didn’t even have to remind the kids when we got there. They were eager to do it, as soon as they saw Grace. Still, I knew the real test would come at night. They had never slept popless before.

Once again, though, they surprised me. They were actually excited. “Sleeping without pops is fun!” Sutton announced. They went to bed without pacifiers, and without a fight. They slept, ironically, like babies.

For three days.

We cheered like lunatics for them. “You did it! You slept without pops! You’re big kids now!”

“Can we go to Toys R Us?”

“Yes! The day after we get home, we’ll go!”


Zelda Rubenstein, Poltergeist, This House is CleanStill, something didn’t seem right. It was like the scene in Poltergeist after Zelda Rubenstein proclaims, “This house is clean!” and you just know the worst shit yet is about to go down.

The climactic showdown happened as soon as we returned home.

If Drew and I had thought ahead, we would’ve swept our house of pops before we left, but we didn’t, and ten seconds after we walked in the door, Bennett found an old one behind his bed and shoved it in his mouth.

“Bennett, we’re done with pops, remember?”

Bennett shoved his face in his pillow to hide from us.

“Bennett, give me the pop!”


It was worse than ever, and while we fought with him, Sutton demanded her pop, too. All that progress, erased in an instant.

Drew and I gathered all the pops and put them out of the kids’ reach. We promised ourselves we wouldn’t give in, no matter how bad things got. And they got pretty bad.

We fought with the kids all night long. They wouldn’t stay in bed. They wouldn’t stop crying. They played on our emotions. “Daddy,” Bennett wailed. “I miss my pop SOOOOO MUCH!!!”

“You can do it!” we told them. “The first night will be hard, but then it’ll get easier. I promise!”


“Stay strong!”

This was rock bottom, but we didn’t cave. We made those kids face their demons. They stared into the abyss, tore their minds apart then built themselves anew.

It was one of the longest nights of our lives, but we made it, all of us. Dawn arrived, and nary a pop had touched anyone’s lips. Success.

I can’t say it was easy for any of us. I can’t say we’ll ever be the same again. But after our agonizing trek to the thundering gullet of Hell and back, we all agreed on one thing.

It had been worth it.


84 comments on “Confessions of a Bad Dad: My Kids are Junkies

  1. I always swore my child would give up the pacifier (we called them nuks) by 2 years old, but then she started sucking her fingers instead and they’d crack and bleed (she has sensitive skin), so we went back to the nuk. When she turned 3 (gasp! I know!), we followed our pediatrician’s advice and picked out her favorites and went to Build a Bear. She picked out a bunny and we put 3 pacifiers inside; we named her Nuky Bun-Bun. My daughter snuggled with her for weeks but never asked for a nuk again (and thankfully didn’t fall back to the finger sucking either)! After all that, I’m much less judgmental when I see kids who I would have previously thought too old to have a pacifier…

    • Well congrats to you! Last night (our 3rd night w/o pops since we got home), there was just one mention. Bennett again said, “Daddy, I miss my pop.” He dropped the “SOOOO MUCH” and didn’t say it as a request, just an observation. We’re getting there!

  2. Oh, I can so relate. My youngest will be 3 on Friday. He still has his teetee (toddler speak for teeth, because it holds them in). I’ve taken it away during the day, in the car. He finds it. I take it away and put it out of reach. He throws himself on the floor quite dramatically “I NEEEEED IT!!!”. Even his oldest brother tells me to give it to him because he needs it and he won’t stop whining. I’ve tried talking to him about how babies need them, he just likes to have it with him and maybe we’ll put it in a Build A Bear so he always has it with him. No. He needs it in his mouth. How about we leave it for the teetee fairy for your birthday and maybe she’ll bring you a present? No.

    We also have potty training coming around the bend. May God have mercy on my soul.

    • I’ve never heard of the Build-A-Bear option. I love it. Wish I had known about it sooner! πŸ™‚

      Good luck on the potty training, too. I’d direct you toward some of my potty training posts, but they don’t paint a very pretty picture of the experience. Hopefully yours goes a little smoother.

    • Tania & Jerry, we just got done with both those things and it did not come easy, but i came with great plans and they both worked…..
      Paci – (big boy purchase) my boy wanted a race car bed from walmart, so I told him “okay but you have to pay for a big boy bed with all your paci’s” he was excited, we packed up all the pacis in a ziplock bag and he went marching up to walmart, and proudly paid for his bed with the bag of paci’s (make sure to wink alot to the cashier and spell trash them). We set up the bed and he was really excited to sleep in it which helped because that night HE WANTED HIS PACI, however we kept reminding him they were gone, he got a bed, and the lady at walmart has them now. By doing this is was easier to say “no paci” because he blamed the poor cashier at walmart, that took public enemy #1 off me.

      Potty training – went to the Just a dollar store and let him pick out 40 cheapo toys, he shopped and the whole time I reminded him that they were only for Potty Prizes, we stuck them in a box at home and stayed in for the weekend with the key goal of POTTY TRAINING BOOT CAMP. Put big boy pants on him and the potty in the living room where his shows were playing (he sat and tried forever), he was not allowed a toy from his box until he has success (not just trying), when he did oOMG he was so excited and ran right to the box to pick one of the cheapo toys. He continued all weekend, had 2 accidents, and loved the potty, matter of fact he was smart enough to sit and squeeze a few drops at a time in order to get prizes. Then we spaced the prizes out to “you get a prize if you have no accidents all day” by the end of the first week we were in full on toliet awesomeness. Then came using the prizes if he can go #2 in the toliet etc,,, after a full year of trying to even get him to sit on the potty within a week of this method, he would freak out if you tried a diaper…..and of course the prizes stopped when they were gone.

  3. Too late to help you – but I got my kids off “pacis” by not buying the next size up when they got bigger. They literally outgrew them. BTW – Bittyboo’s 1st word was “Mama,” and her second one was “credit card.” True story.

    • I don’t think they make anything bigger than 18 month pacifiers, and they’ve been on those for 2 years now. We stopped buying new ones over a year ago, so they’ve had the same filthy, crusty ones all that time. I mean, blecch!

  4. Unlike you. I am on my second family with an only son at seven years old. At 60 years old and retired. I am enjoying my son;s developement. He is now going through some growing pains and alwasy seeks advicfrom as I did my Dad. It sound like to me,you are a great Dad. My son Lance is a chip off the old block like his old man. I will be contrbulating a post on my son this week. Nice post.

  5. We had to tell the story of the “ming ming fairy” to baby #3 when she was three. Baby #3’s pediatrician and dentist both recommended the ming ming fairy, wherein the child leaves the ming mings on the windowsill for the fairy. The fairy collects them, and then redistributes them to new babies all over the world.
    We don’t participate in the tooth fairy, Santa, or the Easter bunny, but we had a ming ming fairy. Whatever works, I say!

  6. I always wished I had a pop when I was young. It looked so fun and cool (on some kids’ mouths). But my mother never let me, even when I was a BABY. I couldn’t believe I never had a pop!! My childhood was so cruel! WAAAAAAAAAH….!

  7. Oh, do I relate to this post. We went through the same thing with my daughter when she was 2 1/2. The problem was we had a new baby in the house who used “nuks” – so we couldn’t do a clean sweep! But now both kids are “nuk” free (for some reason, the second one was never that into them and stopped using it on his own at around 6 months old). Thanks for the laugh this morning.

    • Yeah, that would definitely make it harder. The great thing about multiples is the group mentality can work in your favor sometimes. They had a buddy going through the same withdrawal they had. To live in a house with a sibling who was still allowed to use pops would be rough. Good for you for getting through it.

  8. Hey there, it’s me — Other Dad. The one who is usually silently lurking, waiting to jump in with any inconsistency between Jerry’s version of the story and my own. The facts told within todya’s post are all true. BUT — there is one critical thing Jerry left out of this missive.

    When I woke up this morning — thankfully, pre-kid-wake-up — I noticed that Jerry had posted the blog posting late in the evening/early in the morning — and then I spotted his fatal flaw:


    All of his hard work would have been unwittingly undone by Bennett seeing his pop, running off to his room and starting the process all over again.

    So, today, I accept the honor of being DAD OF THE DAY with great pleasure, and I bow down to Jerry’s expert re-telling of the story of our children and their never-ending relationship with their pacifiers.

  9. “my toddlers had degenerated into Ellen Burstyn in Requiem For a Dream.”

    I cannot tell you how hard that made me laugh without completely embarrassing myself! Amazing! And congratulations!

    • Thanks. I felt like I could’ve made some better jokes if I hadn’t blocked that movie out of my head. No way was I going to watch it again just to punch up a blog post. Seriously, that was one of the hardest things ever to sit through.

  10. Your. Kids and travails are totally normal. Young primates are biologically geared to have a need to suck on something, for comfort as well as nourishment. Absent cultural modification, the normal length of time for this to persist is 2-7 years or so, as long as breastfeeding may last. The pops were of course an appropriate substitute for the comfort portion of that equation–and as a breastfeeding parent whose kids would accept no substitutes, I greatly envy your years of relative peace and quiet in the car as your children sucked on their pops! Congratulations on the weaning transition.

  11. We went through something very similar with our son. The first 2 nights were terrible but by the third night he had pretty much forgot all about it. He found one about six months later, but by that time both the interest and the “reflex”. Were gone. It was hard for us to stand our ground too, and we too resorted to bribery.

  12. Oh, what a funny post! This was a great read. And, once again, by reading about another parent’s torment, I feel better about my own challenges, mistakes, and blissful reprieves.

    For some mysterious reason I could not get either of our kids to go for the pacifier -ever. This was a source of great anguish for my wife and I when they were newborns… And beyond. Especially with our firstborn, who was only peaceful when being held and sucking on our pinkie! It was hell. It was brutally uncomfortable at times (such as while I was trying to SLEEP! seriously). We longed for her to take to a “pop.” But, no. When she found her thumb we were overjoyed. (Then we had to deal with kicking that habit as well- also a tough one.)

    Our second child never went for either. Now that she’s 2+ we’re relieved. Both girls weaned themselves from the boob at exactly 11 months old as well (wtf?!). This was sad for me with child #1 and DEVASTATING for me with the second (and last) one. I knew that breastfeeding was OVER, forever. So sad! 😦 But, on a positive note, I never had to deal with the horror of weaning… Blessings and curses, all of it.

    • Funny how kids can be so different, isn’t it? Before my kids were born, I briefly considered never introducing pacifiers, but at first, they were really helpful… and they kept my kids from sucking their thumbs, so that’s good I guess. Plus, my kids never got a chance to breastfeed, so I guess we owed them the opportunity to suck on something. πŸ™‚

  13. My kids spat theirs out at the ripe old age of three months and never looked back. It could’ve been the result of the Latex or the silicon..they were lacking in flavor back then..

    My son replaced his with his thumb, which lasted up to age five. When I walked him to his first day at Kindergarten he chomped on his thumb like Edward G Robinson milking a cigar. I mentioned to my son that he is a “big guy now & wasn’t he concerned about the other kids making fun of him sucking his thumb at school?”

    His slipped out an unconcerned “Naaa” from the side of his mouth ,bypassing the thumb…

    Interesting thing: He’s in college now & enjoys a cigar when golfing with friends or playing poker…go figure.

  14. Our 3-1/2 year old still sucks his “pinky.” At first we limited it to nighttime and naps, but then let up when he was sick or congested (which, being a toddler, and it being winter, is a lot) Then a couple of weeks ago, he climbed up to retrieve his pinkies (yes plural, he always carries a backup) from the top drawer of his dresser where we kept them. He pulled the whole thing on top of himself β€” luckily he was only bruised a little. So for now we don’t have a pinky-weaning plan, but are just content he’s still got all his limbs.

  15. Great job! We just went through this same ordeal last summer, and it was not easy! We did the same thing, as far as limiting when she could have it at first, and asking her to give it to a baby. Finally, we got rid of them and bribed her with a toy. She still had a couple of rough nights, but it was worth it in the end!

  16. Wonderful job it certainly is not an easy thing to do that’s for sure!! My girls never cared for pacifiers (lucky me). We thought we had dodged ourselves a bullet! …… but we have gubbies.
    Those would be blankets… named after the sound the girls made when they we cute and little and sucking on them (gub gub gub gub)… now they are 3 and 2 and can’t go anywhere without their gubbies. I am at a loss of how to take gubby away, particularly with my 3 year old, but now it seems she will just gub on any blanket if gubby is not readily available. It is definatly a challenge!!

  17. Imagine going through the same thing but replace “pop” with “boob” – I mean, it’s not like you can throw them away! And, yes, my kid was almost 3 – old enough to tell me “Boo-boo milk tastes better than chocolate ice cream!” I did the bribe thing too (Geotrax train station) with a countdown chart that I saved for posterity. The first night was like being at the Betty Ford clinic – one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done – but we both survived! He’s still a fan of boobs though – I have a feeling he’ll one day be bringing home a Dolly Parton lookalike from college. πŸ™‚

  18. My kids both gave up their pops at 6 months old but their bottles were another story….I had weaned my daughter off the bottle and then her brother was born and he had bottles so she wanted one too…..just to keep the peace I gave in but she could only use it in the house (Mom was ashamed!)…..but I just gave myself the talk she would not be going to Kindergarten with the bottle and at some point she did just give it up of her own accord…..did not have the same problem with my son….I guess we all have to tough out these withdrawals as parents…..loved your piece, made me smile….and it brought back memories of my kids when they were babies….

  19. We were lucky they stopped making the only pacifiers that my son would take, so at 7 months when the last one started falling apart (so I threw out away) he gave them up as he refused all the others. So glad it happened before he could talk.
    He has just started talking this week and first words are dadeeee, quack quack and num num (food).

  20. Neither of my kids took pacifiers, and not because I was one of those “no paci” moms. They just wouldn’t. To someone who has tried to wean their children off of pacifiers, that probably sounds like a blessing. But of instead of enduring the drama of weaning, I just had to endure the drama of children who didn’t seem to necessarily have a go-to soother. Which sucks. Especially the first three months of my daughter’s life when she was colicky. So I judge nothing. I actually use to envy parents who could calm their kids with one pop of the paci.

  21. So funny! My little ones don’t take a pacifier but I keep trying to get the one month old to like them, I just think they look cute. Maybe I should be thankful πŸ™‚

  22. Love this post! My daughter never had a dummy (in fact she would cry more if she saw me approach with one!) yet I can totally relate: Bribery. Yes. Pre-Child Judgement. Yes. Remorseful and worn down mama. Yes. NOTHING more precious than sleep. yes.

    • Pacifiers are not good for their teeth, and it’s also just a psychological thing. They’re growing up. I believe it’s actually good to make them do some things that are tough for them.

  23. Wow, when I was but a wee bunny we sucked on carrots. Still do. Sucking on rubber a very weird human thing. Good luck – looks like you’re doint a good job getting them off the rubber.

  24. We haven’t had the pop fight, but we’ve been leaning on youtube videos pretty hard. It’s funny how dadhood makes you instantly judgmental about other people & their kids, and at the same time uber-empathetic, knowing sometimes you just gotta do what works.

  25. The little monster never took to the dummy which, I guess, was lucky. He was also a very cheerful baby, so no real need for the things. Number two now is a little more gassy and enjoys the soother (although he prefers boob), but only so long. It’s the funniest thing how, after a few minutes of sucking, he just pops them out with verve! He has recently discovered that they come with a ring to take them out by with his hands, too. They are more like a toy now for him which makes me hopeful that I will be spared the weaning. Good job, Jerry and Drew, for staying strong.

  26. Ha ha – we are currently going to have to face this scenario with my 3 year old’s ‘Doo Doo’!! I have thought of the ‘Doo Doo’ fairies but because the name of his dummy reminds me of dog muck, it provides an interesting idea about what the ‘Doo Doo’ fairies will smell like when they visit! And indeed, what joyful little presents they’ll leave behind!!

  27. hahah! omg that is too cute and funny. it must have been awful for you all! i think my mother did the sizzors with me, i dont think it was a very big deal. but my poor sister, she was in chronic pain as a child with juvenile arthritis, my mother was always getting filthy looks from strangers who didn’t know the situation because my sister was “too old” to have a “pop”, but it had cut down the amount of painkillers she needed, and was deffinatly a crutch for her (she had actually managed to self weane before the cronic pain started). i think in the end mum convinced her that she was going to burry the dummies in the garden to make a whole tree of them. then would remind her at nights that they were in the garden to make a whole tree untill she stopped asking.

  28. my parents told me i never wanted “pops”, i sucked my thumb instead- how they got me to stop? sent me to a sleepover, where the kids would ask me if i was a baby, because i would still suck my thumb. i was no baby! so the thumb came out, and stayed out πŸ™‚
    peer pressure and whatnot πŸ™‚

  29. Hi, just found you (don’t know how I found you), and just wanted to say that I love your blog!
    And this post is hilarious! and hits very close to home! I just managed to get my five year old (yes, 5) off his nighttime binky, and had the presence of mind to take my three year old off hers at the same time. It was a bloody nightmare! I used his fifth birthday as a definitive cut off point and also got lucky that he lost his first tooth right around the same time so the tooth fairy showed up and took tooth and binkys. I will never forget the ridiculous, yet heartbreaking, spectacle of his kissing his binky goodbye repeatedly before putting it away in the toothfairy box. (He then cried for it for three days… but now we’re finally, finally, sleeping peacefully again and I no longer have to worry that my pathological tendencies towards procrastination were adversely affecting my children.)

    • Thanks for making me feel a little better about my kids being 3 1/2 when they “binky-weaned”. πŸ™‚ You were smart to do both your kids at the same time. Getting my kids to kick the habit was one of the harder things I’ve gone through as a parent, and I never want to do it again. If I have another kid, they’re never getting a pacifier! πŸ™‚

  30. I remember when my sister was four, she still had her pacifer, and because my parents also couldn’t stand up to her tantrums (because the last time they tried to, she ate two of my goldfish and killed the rest when she knocked the bowl over), my grandma came over to deal with the Deadly Pacifer.
    By coating it in hot sauce.
    I think she still associates pacifers with evil now, because she can’t even look at them anymore…

  31. I thought I was being brilliant by encouraging my boy to suck his fingers instead of using a pacifier… 8 years later and he’s still sucking them. It’s a lot easier to gather up pops than to start chopping off fingers. Alas, best laid plans.
    Keep up the great work!

  32. Pingback: Mommy and Daddy Bloggers Shoot the Poop: Part One | The Daily Post

  33. It’s alright, i used a “pop” until the age of five. My mother threaten me and it never worked. Until pre-k, I used one, mom finally threaten with “You will not be going to school unless you give me your muck(pop).” At five school was amazing, so i gave that sucker right up. I now realize school isn’t great and i should have kept my muck (pop).

  34. So during my frantic google search for ways to get rid of Finneas’s “mimi” I found your post. You made me feel like maybe he won’t have a pacifier in his tux pocket at the prom. This post was hilarious and supportive like an al anon meeting for parents of binky abusers. Thank you!

  35. What the fucking hell do you think you guys are doing to your kids I still have my pacifer and I use my knephews all the time and I fall asleep with them in my mouth too but I love the orthondontic one not the silicone one I bet your kids hate the silicone pacifers but love the orthondontic pacifers am I right.

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